


10.22

by bonebo



Series: Kinktober '16 [22]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Boot Worship, Dom/sub, M/M, Petplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: Jack can’t imagine a time will come where he’ll get used to this sight.kinktober 22 - petplay





	

Jack can’t imagine a time will come where he’ll get used to this sight.

Gabriel kneels naked in the middle of their bedroom floor, his hands planted on the ground between his knees, back perfectly straight and head raised. His dark eyes are fixed on Jack’s face despite the color that rises to darken his cheeks, and between his teeth he holds his favorite paddle--the thin wooden one with the word ‘SLUT’ etched across it in bold red letters, the one that’s tasted his plush ass the most often. The muscles in his stubbled jaw twitch with the strain of holding it aloft, and as he shifts his head to alleviate the ache there, Jack’s attention is drawn down to the black leather collar buckled snug around Gabriel’s throat.

Oh.

So that was the game that Gabriel wanted to play, today.

Jack looks around, searching for the final tell--and sure enough, sitting neatly folded on the bed is a thin black leash, made of the same soft leather as Gabriel’s collar. It’s an unspoken request that Jack is all too happy to indulge in.

“Stay,” he says, voice firm. He doesn’t miss the way Gabriel’s cock, resting half-hard against his thigh, twitches at the command.

Jack crosses the room slowly to grab the leash off the bed. He runs it through his fingers and then folds it over in his hands, giving the leather a few snaps to hear it crack against itself, ringing loud in the silence of the room.

Over the dimming echo, he can hear Gabriel’s sharp inhale.

Jack turns to look at him--at the faint sheen of sweat he can see beading along Gabriel’s brow, the way his shoulders quiver with the strain of supporting his posture so perfectly. His jaw shifts around the paddle between his teeth, and the whine that leaves him is muffled and something so utterly needy that Jack can’t help but feel an affectionate rush of pity for him. He drops into a squat beside the bed, holding the leash in one hand.

“Alright, Gabriel.” Jack snaps his fingers sharply, watches the frantic swallow of that bronze throat with interest. “C’mere, boy.”

And like a dream, Gabriel shuffles over on hands and knees, his cheeks already blushing brightly like they haven’t been doing this for months now, like Jack would ever judge him for this. He drops the paddle at Jack’s feet, the wood clattering against the floor noisily; a thin string of drool hangs from his full lower lip, and as Jack reaches up to thumb it away he wonders just how long Gabriel has sat here, naked and straining himself, just waiting for Jack to return home.

What a patient boy he’s been.

Jack’s hand comes to fondly ruffle the short-cropped curls atop his head and Gabriel nuzzles into it, eyes closing with a soft sigh. He’s adorable like this, Jack thinks; when he’s exposed and vulnerable, giving into his desires because he trusts Jack enough to keep him safe, bring him back when everything is done.

“Your safe word is watchpoint, just like last time.” Jack’s voice is soft against Gabriel’s ear, a sharp contrast to the metallic clip of the leash fastening to his black collar. “If your mouth is busy, cross your fingers. You remember?”

Gabriel nods quickly, cracking open his eyes after a moment to peek up at Jack, waiting--

And Jack smiles, moves his hand to scratch two fingers behind Gabriel’s ear, right at the spot he knows is sensitive. “That’s my good boy.”

Gabriel rumbles happily, nuzzling back into the scritching with abandon; and when Jack pulls his hand away, Gabriel looks up at him with bright, adoring eyes, pleased and ready to please. Jack gives his leash a gentle tug just to hear him whine.

“Now then.” He reaches down to grab the paddle, turning it over to examine it curiously, like he hasn’t used it enough to be familiar with every grain of the wood. “I wonder why my good boy chose to bring me this, of all toys.” His gaze lifts to Gabriel’s, pinning him under a curious look. “Do you need a paddling?”

The nametag on his collar jingles quietly as Gabriel shakes his head, his lower lip caught between his teeth. His dark eyes drop to stare at the floor. Jack quirks a brow.

“No?” Jack pauses, then grins faintly, pulse quickening as he guesses at his pet’s game. “You don’t need one...but do you _want_ a paddling, Gabriel?”

His broad chest heaves for breath, a moment passing in silence--but then Gabriel nods, a near-frantic thing, like he’s afraid that if he doesn’t do it fast he never will. Jack sucks in a breath through his teeth.

 _“Fuck.”_ He pats Gabriel’s head before standing, hissing as the change in posture makes his hard cock grind uncomfortably against his fatigues. He debates shucking them off--letting Gabriel suck him off to earn the paddling that he wants--but decides that making his pet wait even longer for some satisfaction would be cruel.

Another time, perhaps.

Instead, Jack sits on the edge of the bed, and gives the leash in his hand a tug. “C’mere, boy.” He spreads his legs a little and watches as Gabriel crawls closer, his hips swaying in a slow, tantalizing rhythm--but right when he reaches Jack’s boots, Jack leans down to press a hand against his forehead, stopping him.

“Ah ah.” Jack’s voice is huskier, lower as he watches the confusion in Gabriel’s eyes, hears his barely-there whine. “I’m being nice, and giving you something that you want. I think it’s only fair you give me something in return, don’t you?”

Gabriel’s response is a soft bark of confirmation. Jack clenches his fist so tight around the leash his knuckles go white.

“I want you to do something special for me, pet.” He nudges Gabriel’s thigh with the toecap of his boot before giving the leash a downward tug, and sees the sudden realization dawn on Gabriel’s face right before he delivers the killing blow.

“Clean it.”

Gabriel’s eyes dart up to him--dark and wet and wide, like he can’t believe what Jack is saying. He hesitates, his tongue darting out to quickly lick over his lips.

“Good boys do what they’re told,” Jack reminds him, voice light; his eyes watch Gabriel’s fingers, waiting. “And you want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

It’s teasing, Jack playing with Gabriel because he knows his sub likes it. But Gabriel--his darling Gabriel, so sweet and pliant when he’s lost in his headspace--collapses, the fight driven right out of him.

His back bends fluidly, his hands coming to rest, fingers splayed, on the floor. His head lowers until those plush lips hover just inches away from the dusty metal of Jack’s toecap, and here Gabriel hesitates again, dark eyes looking up at Jack through his lashes.

“Go on,” Jack coaxes, giving the leash a gentle tug and watching Gabriel shiver. “Kiss it for me, will you?”

Gabriel whines but he does as he’s told, kissing the dusty metal reverently. The noise he makes is soft but obscene--wet, vulgar.

And Jack smiles broadly, his eyes bright with promise. “Good boy.”

After the kiss, the dam breaks, and the rest comes easy. One kiss leads to another, Gabriel peppering the metal with his lips, and then that pink tongue comes out to lap up the dirt, lick cleaning stripes over the toecap. Jack watches Gabriel gag at the grit, sees his fingers twitch; but Gabriel doesn’t protest any more, doesn’t use his safeword, doesn’t use his signal.

Instead he just cleans Jack’s boots until they shine, like the good boy that Jack tells him he is.


End file.
